


Shadow

by A_Boy_Named_Mike



Series: MadaTobi Week [22]
Category: Naruto, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 22:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20124511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Boy_Named_Mike/pseuds/A_Boy_Named_Mike
Summary: Prompt:Mythology and folklore(fromMadaTobi Week 2019).





	Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: _Mythology and folklore_ (from **[MadaTobi Week 2019](https://madatobiweek.tumblr.com/post/182718063236/madatobi-week-2019)**).

The hour is late and Tobirama comes to him, nightfall and nightmare in his stride.

His eyes are dark, like the gear that cloaks his body, like the runes upon his skin. He walks among ruin and rain, stealth and power in his every step.

Madara cannot move. He kneels upon the dirt, amid bodies and blood, staring up at Tobirama like he is a god and a demon come to claim him. He is speechless. Reverent.

Tobirama is legend made life.

Here he stands, a demon among demons, wielding a seraph blade that burns brighter than all the stars of Faerie.

Madara looks at him, beneath the storm that rages like the one in his eyes.

Those eyes, dark and terrible.

  


* * *

  


Madara was a child when he had learned to fear the Nephilim.

He had heard tell of them — beings born of angel and man, swift as shadows, angry, vengeful.

Had seen armies return to Faerie, few in number. Comrades lost. Hatred in the eyes of those that remained.

And he had learned, that though the Nephilim kept mundanes safe, they cared little for Downworlders. Saw no distinction between them and the demons they were charged to slaughter.

That he would know no mercy, no safety nor kindness at the hands of a Shadowhunter.

  


* * *

  


But he is safe now.

Safe, because _Tobirama_ is here, had come for him.

He raises his blade and brings it down, lightning-swift. First, the chains around Madara's wrists. Then, the ones upon his ankles. They fall away like dust. Like they were nothing at all.

Madara falls and Tobirama catches him. His face against Tobirama's chest. He inhales blood and leather. Inhales _Tobirama,_ sea and steel and storm.

A Shadowhunter who had slain demons and Shadowhunters alike, for vengeance.

For _Madara._

He raises his head. Beholds Tobirama, dangerous and demonic, this deathless creature. But in his eyes, _love._ He looks upon Madara like he is all that is good in this world.

He cups Madara's chin and his touch is the gentlest thing. Their mouths meet, lips sliding together, natural, eager, desperate. Clatter of his sword upon the ground.

Madara's fingers come to curl themselves in the lapels of Tobirama's jacket. Tobirama's hand, sliding beneath his hair, gripping the back of his neck. He tastes like all that is forbidden, all that Madara should never have learned to want.

But he _wants_ this. Wants _all_ of it.

These hands that bring destruction. That spill demon ichor and the blood of the Endarkened. Hands that could snap his neck, tear his flesh, burn him till he is nothing but cinders and smoke.

Tobirama is corruption and sin. He is a fever-dream. A cautionary tale. An ancient, bitter nightmare made real. His is a heart that's dark like the flame in his eyes, the blood upon his blade.

They kneel upon the blood-soaked earth. Stench of death all around them.

Madara kisses Tobirama and tastes a secret. Power and flame. Angel-bright and demon-dark.

They fall upon the ground. Tobirama, above him. Like a shadow, looming, engulfing, consuming.

And Madara surrenders.


End file.
